


Gentle, Gentle

by Rinzler



Series: Retellings [7]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3284873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Season 1, Episode 19 from Greg's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentle, Gentle

Hunched over his workstation, Greg scribbles down another series of chemical compounds he's identified on the suspect's clothing into a report. Trace is backlogged, so he got tricked into helping with the incoming cases, and the one he’s currently processing both DNA and trace for is a pretty big one, media-wise. The formal paperwork needs to be filed in a little less than two hours, because the DA’s office is pushing for a rushed preliminary trial, and he still has three more tests that need to be run. He’s confident that he can make it in time, though, provided there are no distractions. Not even of the ever-welcome Nick Stokes variety.

Which is exactly when he hears the door to his lab swing open and footsteps approaching. He looks up.

“I hear you're backlogged,” says Grissom, standing as close to Greg’s desk as he can, given that it's covered in paperwork, glass bottles and pipettes.

“Twenty unknowns from some drug shootout, FBI special request- Sheriff told me to clear it off my counter before I do anything else,” Greg replies, glancing back down at the paper he's filling out. Hopefully whatever Grissom wants to talk about won't take too long. Grissom's monologues can be fascinating, but he really doesn't need that right now.

“These?” asks Grissom, pointing to the stacks of paper next to the sheet Greg has his pen poised above.

“Yeah. You can almost smell the Quantico, you know?” Greg says, glancing back down at his paper, hoping Grissom takes that as a cue to leave. Where was he? Oh right, the hydrocarbons were a mixture of-

Then Grissom picks one of the folders up, right off of Greg's desk, and as he turns to look the paper gets ripped out of his hands. Both are practically slammed down onto a nearby rolling cart.

Greg stares in confusion as Grissom grabs the back of the cart and shoves it out the door. It rolls directly across the hallway and bangs into the opposite wall. Some bottles fall of the side, shattering on the floor, and a stack of carefully ordered papers shifts, scattering across the surface.

Greg gapes at the cart for another few seconds before looking back at Grissom, torn between shock and anger. It took him three hours to organize those papers, and any one of those bottles could be a key piece of evidence in a case. And knowing this Grissom still shoved the cart out of the lab like it was full of trash? He's about to mouth off when Grissom beats him to it.

“There,” Grissom says. “Now they're off your counter.” Grissom is staring at directly at him, and on second thought Greg is not going to say anything at all because he knows that look. It's the look Grissom normally directs at Ecklie like he's trying to decide if he should feed the day shift supervisor to his tarantulas before or after he crushes his brain.

That is not a look Greg is messing with. Not today.

So instead of lashing out, Greg raises his eyebrows and bites his tongue, trying to figure out why his counter being empty is so important to Grissom.

The night shift supervisor turns to another cart that he wheeled into Greg's lab and picks up a container of samples- there are two- and a thick file. “Zachary Anderson. Date of birth oh-one twenty-three oh-one. Date of death, three hours ago,” Grissom says, leaning down and closer to Greg. “Until we find out how and why-” Grissom smacks down the tray of samples onto Greg's desk- “this is the only case you work on.”

Greg glances from Grissom to the samples- ballparking it there have to be a good fifty or so- and back again, mouth still hanging open slightly. He's never seen Grissom this determined to get evidence processed. Normally he spouts some rhetoric about ‘all in due time,’ ‘no case takes priority’ or ‘there is no sense in rushing the inevitable, young grasshopper.’ Not now, though.

“Yes, sir,” Greg says, hoping it's a good answer and swallowing nervously. Grissom turns around and walks out of the lab without so much as a backwards glance.

There's a beat of silence, and Greg tries to calm down, but his heart is too busy jackrabbiting around in his chest and his lungs are going double-time. His short gasping breaths fill the lab, and he grasps the edge of his worktable in an attempt to ground himself.

More than slightly shaken, he looks around wildly to try and see if anyone else just saw what happened.

Directly outside of his lab, just beyond the glass window, Nick leans over and mutters something in Sara's ear. Then they both walk in separate directions with slightly worried expressions.

The panic in Greg’s head clears up like fog in the morning sunlight, but it’s replaced with a slow, creeping sense of dread that’s ten times worse. He drops his head down on the table with a groan.

Of course Nick had to be nearby when Grissom decided to come into Greg’s lab and practically read him his rights in what must have looked like an epic, and very much one-sided, smack-down. Of course Greg has done nothing wrong all shift and has been working hard, but that doesn't matter anymore because Grissom apparently decided Greg's lab was the best to terrorize in his quest for answers. And of course the rest of the CSIs- Nick included- are going to take this as Greg being an idiot again, rather than Grissom losing his mind.

Greg glances around again. Nick and Sara have split and no one else is even close to his lab.

Screw this, Greg decides, springing out of his chair and walking into the hallway. He leans down next to the cart and pokes at the remains of the two glass bottles. Neither seem to be labeled, which means they weren't evidence, thank god. Greg would lose his job for sure if they were, never mind the fact that it wasn't his fault they got destroyed.

Several hours of hard work and a good shift, and it's ruined by less than five minutes with Grissom. He'd say he's overreacting, but he's really not.

Greg stands up and grabs the cart, steering it carefully back into his lab. Once he's inside he closes the door. Then he grabs the file and the sample tray from his desk and dumps them back onto Grissom's cart, shoving it into a corner. He pulls the files he was working on out of the messed up stack of paper and places them carefully on his desk, then grabs all the other papers and dumps them into a nearby empty box. He doesn't have time to sort through them right now, so that's going to be another couple of hours he'll have to stay in the lab after his normal work day ends because yet another CSI felt entitled enough to decide their evidence should be top priority.

(It's not a first, but he is surprised that it was Grissom. Grissom, who out of everyone here, should have the handbook on lab rules and regulations memorized from back to front.)

Well, tough. Greg doesn't have to do anything Grissom says if it puts him at risk of losing his job. Which he actually will be at risk of if he doesn't get those next three tests running sometime within the next- Greg glances at the clock- ten minutes.

He picks up his pen again and starts filling out the paperwork for the FBI case with a sigh. So much for having a good day at work. When Grissom finds out that Greg didn't prioritize his evidence like he demanded, he's really going to be in for it.

He just hopes that Nick understands and won't be disappointed in him.

“Fingers crossed,” Greg mutters to himself as he scribbles his signature at the bottom of the page and slides it back into the case folder. Time to run some tests.

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out as more of a character study than a slash fic (or at least I think so). And I did wind up making Grissom into a bit of a villain, despite how much respect Greg seems to have for him in the actual series. Still, I'm happy with it, and I think I did okay. Really, it's a miracle I've been able to write anything with real life being as hard as it is right now.  
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
